


aroace, not your place

by kivancalcite



Category: Adventures of Tintin (2011)
Genre: Aromanticism, Asexuality, Attempted Murder, Canon Compliant, Despair, Drowning, Flashbacks, Fluff, Gen, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, Light Angst, Male Friendship, Post-Canon, Relationship Discussions, aromantic asexual tintin, haddock is a supportive dad, i really see this, i'm grey ace aro but i lean more into aroace because i don't generally have attraction either way, i'm self projecting yeeeee, reference to previous canon, tintin is an aroace icon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:34:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29563362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kivancalcite/pseuds/kivancalcite
Summary: Little bit of a self-projection piece, I headcanon Tintin as someone on the ace and aro spectrum, and someone who'd deal with the usual questions as a result. References certain events of the film and demonstrates the ginger reporter coming to more of an understanding over his lack of interest, attraction and desire in the areas of certain affection from others, especially when he eventually bumps into the captain at a life-changing point on the ship known as the Karaboudjan.
Relationships: Archibald Haddock & Tintin
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	aroace, not your place

Tintin was never one to think about relationships. He was far more concerned about writing the next article, or following leads through risky adventures with his little white terrier, Snowy. Growing up, he was always one to peruse the library at the orphanage he was at, whether fiction or non-fiction, or explore new places hidden away in the place much to the chagrin of the assistants there. He always knew that there was always more to something than met the eye, that there was always something new to be found. He was so focused on that as he grew up, he pursued everything but relationships.

He was overjoyed when he adopted the little bundle of white fur that he ended up calling Snowy, who would eagerly sniff around for bones and bark loudly whenever there was a noise outside his door. He knew people that he grew up with were wooing their childhood crushes, but his mind was too interested in other things to understand why other people saw it as so important.

“Don’t you think you might find the right girl soon? With all your running about, surely there’d be a girl your age to bring back to your apartment.”

His landlady, Mrs Finch, was well meaning, of course. But it always puzzled him. He’d perhaps found the occasional girl attractive, but not in the way she might have been thinking. His head was more sooner turned by a mysterious treasure or letter than another lady his age.

He laughed, perhaps nervously but disguised it with his usual youthful and polite charm. “I assure you, Mrs Finch, maybe sometime. Right now, I’m too far caught up in cases and writing to find time to pursue a relationship.”

The landlady was hesitant, but she knew the young reporter enough to not push the issue too far. She was graceful with him like that. It’s not like he hadn’t heard it many times before.

“A young man such as yourself surely wouldn’t have already been immune to the affections of young women.”

“You do realise she’s flirting with you, right?”

“You seem to use a lot of your free time going off on these adventures and still not finding a young lady to spend your life with.”

And he usually said the same thing, trying to brush it all off. After all, he was good at his job, right? He had made such a success of himself at a young age, why did people place so much importance on romance and relationships? He guessed maybe people looked past the lack of romance and…the other thing in his life and still regarded him as a well known and treasured member of the community with the work he did, but that didn’t suddenly mean it went ignored in his day-to-day life.

“I assure you, I’m fine for now. I’m very much caught up in work. I don’t mean to pass up the affections from ladies my age. I just don’t have time for it at this point in my life.”

He’d make an additional waving gesture with his hand and laugh nervously, albeit politely, finding ways to shrug it off with the more he was asked. Tintin wondered if anyone found it strange that he lived alone, even at his age with his little white dog, but just didn’t want to stir things up with someone like him. Not like anyone ever stopped him going on these adventures (apart from the people he was targeting, of course) and pursuing his work, and frankly he found it easier to deal with these comments as a result, albeit finding them a little irritating nonetheless.

Meeting Haddock was different though. He’d met him when the sailor was in a drunken state, having been taken hostage inside his own ship and angered over the legacy of his family’s rivalry. He was a mess and difficult to handle but Tintin always considered him a friend, feeling bad whenever his own emotions got the best of him to yell at the seafaring man. The falcon chase was no exception, and it pained him at that moment that he’d have to give up the mystery because such a new friend and his own dog’s life was on the line.

Making sacrifices was something he was already familiar with, but it shone a light onto his clear desire for adventures and solving mysteries which he prided himself on. Seeing a friend fall into the water along with his dog felt like time stopped for a moment and he had to let go of something that was part of a much bigger mystery that he’d been desperate to solve and connect the possessions with their rightful owner. It was still something that nonetheless was a huge part of his life and made him understand its priority in his life. He’d figure out this current one sooner or later, he remembered thinking, but it was easily despairing that his friends would be used at such a cruel expense of it.

It wasn’t long after they’d been at Marlinspike Hall that the captain had made his observations clearer. Tintin had obviously heard this many times before, but because of recent events he’d pondered it a lot more and become distracted, perhaps aware that maybe Haddock would bring it up sooner or later.

“Tintin,” he asked one Friday afternoon, sitting the living room opposite each other whilst the reporter was sipping on a cup of tea, “did you ever think about having a relationship, or meeting girls?”

Of course, it was innocent, maybe with not the usual grace that the likes of Mrs Finch would pose the question with, but still. Innocent enough. He almost spat his tea out, which instead dribbled down his chin in a not so dignified manner, unable to restrain a bitter laugh. The captain evidently was taken aback by this action by the wide-eyed look on his face.

“I mean, someone such as yourself---”

“---would not be immune to the affections of women my age, I know. I’ve heard it before.”

Haddock’s jaw was slack at this. He did presume Tintin was not one to engage with the romantic invitations of other women knowing his appetite for adventure, but the response was not one he nonetheless expected from the young man’s mouth.

Tintin put up a hand after having wiped his chin of the resulting residue and put down his cup on the nearest table. “I do apologise for such a response, captain. But I’m far too versed in answering these sorts of questions about my romantic pursuits, which are frankly non-existent.” He made a waving gesture with his hand. “In all honesty, it was never a thing to occur to me at such a young age. It’s not that I don’t find people attractive, it was just never in the way that people presumed.”

Haddock raised his eyebrows. “But other people’s questions don’t bother you? I mean, to an extent?”

The reporter sighed. “It is not for me to entertain other people’s expectations or ideas of me. People can think whatever they like of me, it doesn’t mean I’ll change who I am to make them happy. That’s not who I am.”

To be fair, the captain was not responding the way he expected. The ‘but other people’s questions don’t bother you’ didn’t appear to be framed in a way that he should be bothered. He’d got so many questions on the subject that now coming to understand it, he felt more prone to expecting it to feel more intrusive. Perhaps he was used to Tintin being less of a person for relationships and more for adventure, albeit unfortunately one that might change as he got older.

“Does it bother you, captain, that I don’t?” he asked, now more interested, “Only in an inquisitive way, of course. I’m just not used to less pushy answers from people after I respond to their questions in this area.”

Haddock leaned forward, head in his hands. “Well, I guess I’m not used to hearing a lack of interest in relationships. I was just so caught up in adventuring I never thought to ask until now. But perhaps you light up more when it comes to finding out a lead in a case than that other sort of thing.”

Tintin smiled a bit at that reply, propping an elbow up on the arm of the chair and resting his head in his palm. “I tend to admire and look at people the same way I would at something like the Unicorn, I guess. If that makes sense.”

The captain himself lit up at that, and sat up. “Of course!” he exclaimed, caught up in that ship being mentioned, “Lad, she was indeed beautiful. It was such a shame at what happened to her. I’m not surprised.”

The reporter laughed, amused in an affectionate manner. It was true – he remembered how much he was so enthralled by the ship he saw at the marketplace, albeit annoyed about what became of it merely hours later – and it was indeed a little more comforting that his lack of reciprocation in invitations of flirting and relationships wasn’t treated with such side-eye that he’d come to expect in his everyday life. Perhaps he saw fit enough to trust that it wouldn’t be such a similar case with someone like Haddock.


End file.
